"Donatus, I could not help myself any longer--I can get you no more bread," stammered the girl. "For three days I have been trying in vain, but I can do no more--my limbs are frozen--the cold--I am dying. Oh, poor soul, what will become of you?"
"Beata! angel of my life--angel of my soul!" cried Donatus, rejoicing and weeping in the same breath. "Beata! blessed one, having overcome the world! You have been with me all the time, you have brought me food, have been by my side through snow and frost, in death and desolation? All-merciful God, why were you so long silent?"
"That you should not sin for my sake, nor drive me away--that is why I was silent! Forgive me for disobeying you--I could not, could not leave you."
"Forgive you--I forgive you, you messenger of grace." And with a strong arm the blind man raised the dying girl and carried her into the sheltering cave, and laid her on his bed, covering her with the warm skins that she herself had brought him in her indefatigable care. Then he flung himself down by the couch and covered her care-worn face and faithful breast, and her poor, frozen, little feet with innumerable kisses. He could say no more; only moans and inarticulate sounds of love and sorrow escaped him, and he held her in his arms, and rocked her and soothed her as a mother does her dying child.
And she clung to him in a perfect extasy of joy. "You see--now I am dying by your side--it has happened as I said"--she whispered in his ear. "And you have kept your word; you wanted to lead me to bliss--now I am indeed blessed."
The blind man was like one in the very whirlwind of a celestial revelation.
"Oh, sweet martyr! You have done what no man ever did. We, when we deny ourselves and subdue ourselves, we hope for a future reward and fear future punishment--but you have renounced all, and fought the fight without hope and without fear. You have sacrificed yourself freely and without compulsion, and have bled to death in silence. What is all that heroism and chastity have ever achieved in comparison with this deed? No--it is no power of the devil that has accomplished this. It is not with dying lips that the evil one seeks to tempt--nor with the kiss of death that he entangles his victims. It is a higher power--yes--now I see and know it! Beata, your death has released me from my bonds--there is a love, that is God--and we have loved each other with such a love, and for that love's sake we shall find mercy."
"Amen!" said the girl, and with a smile of rapture she clasped his head that had sunk upon her breast. And there was peace--the peace of God, in their souls. Her breath was now short and weak, but she clasped him to her with all her remaining strength. He pressed her to his breast and rubbed her frozen limbs, and breathed on her with his warm breath. He implored her with a thousand loving words.
"Do not die, my child, my wife--gift of God, stay with me. God who gave you to me, will let you stay with me one day--one hour, only one little hour that I may make up to you for all you have suffered!"
In vain! the cold hand could no longer stroke his head; it fell by her side.